Chapter Eight: Ralts Growing Up Gradually

“If you’re concerned about our teaching staff, let me reassure you: by next month at the latest, we plan to bring in a former provincial top-four trainer as our head instructor. This trainer’s partner is an Alakazam Queen, and he’s quite skilled in nurturing psychic-type spirit queens.” The young lady was clearly frustrated to see most of her commission slipping away—after all, the majority of trainers who came to sign up would usually choose the more expensive package deals.

It was rare to see someone enroll in nothing more than an optional language course these days. Frankly, such a choice had become almost unheard of.

Tang Yi gently patted Ralts’ hand to reassure her, then smiled and said, “Even if you brought in a national-level trainer, I’d still only sign up for the language course today.”

The World Cup, held every four years, was a global spectacle. But the qualifying rounds leading up to it were fierce, starting with city-level preliminaries, then moving to provincial, national, and only those trainers who survived these trials could qualify for the World Cup proper.

And those eliminated in the preliminaries weren’t necessarily doomed to obscurity. With their wealth of practical experience, many of these higher-ranking trainers were frequently recruited by major companies or training centers, enjoying quite generous salaries.

“If you’re worried about the cost, we also offer loan services.”

“Uh, maybe I should look at another training center instead,” Tang Yi said, feigning to get up. Qingjiang wasn’t a big city, but there were plenty of similar training centers, even if their reputations weren’t quite as good as this one.

“All right, all right. Just the language prep class. I’ll get you registered right away,” the young lady relented, giving up her attempts to persuade him. Even the smallest commission was better than nothing.

The paperwork was quickly completed. The 800 yuan fee came straight out of Tang Yi’s own pocket—over the past two years, he’d managed to save up a little bit of money.

“Classes begin next Monday. If that’s fine, please sign here.”

Once the signing was done and he’d received a copy of the contract attachment, Tang Yi left the training center with Ralts in tow.

On the way home, Ralts seemed noticeably happier. She didn’t fully understand what had happened, but she sensed, deep down, that Tang Yi had given up something for her sake.

It moved her in a way she couldn’t quite express.

That evening, at home, Tang Yi told his parents about enrolling in the training class.

His mother was quick to complain about his impulsiveness: “You should have discussed this with us. It’s not as if we can’t afford it. At my work, a colleague’s child signed their spirit queen up for six courses. How are you supposed to compete with that?”

Her tone was full of worry.

Tang Yi had decided to apply for university, but aside from second-tier schools, nearly all of the national key universities required additional spirit queen assessments alongside the written exams.

Tang Yi was at his wit’s end.

He glanced at the just-asleep Ralts, who’d finished her milk. Six courses? That would absolutely exhaust his Ralts!

His father interrupted the nagging, “All right, all right. He’s an adult now. This is his own decision—we should respect it.”

“Yes, he’s grown up,” his mother replied, watching Tang Yi as he busied himself. She felt a mix of comfort and guilt, convinced that Tang Yi had chosen this path only to spare the family from heavy expenses.

Back in his room, Tang Yi sent a quick thank-you message to Gu Qingyue—it was her recommendation, after all, and the center really did have one of the best reputations in the city.

When Gu Qingyue learned that Tang Yi had only enrolled in the language class, she was shocked and immediately launched into a new round of lecturing: [Angry.jpg] Even if you don’t want to go to university, you should at least think about getting a decent job.

Tang Yi replied: [Smile.jpg] Don’t worry, I won’t starve in the future.

Gu Qingyue: Forget it, I give up on you, you lazy salted fish. [SaltedFish.jpg]

Tang Yi couldn’t be bothered to argue.

People in this era were fortunate—no relentless overtime, no late-night grind. Yet, beneath the surface, all the competitive pressure had quietly shifted onto the spirit queens.

Time passed quickly.

Every day, Tang Yi measured Ralts’ height and weight. Even though he knew about their rapid growth stage, he was still amazed at how quickly Ralts shot up, like she was riding a rocket.

For example, since hatching, Ralts’ appearance now looked several years older; she’d become even cuter.

Her shy personality, however, hadn’t changed much.

But Tang Yi wasn’t worried. There was a saying: “Girls blossom in eighteen ways as they grow.” Once Ralts learned to speak and could communicate freely with him, things would surely improve.

The training class started soon enough.

Tang Yi still had plenty of winter holiday left, so he was able to personally accompany Ralts to and from class.

When Ralts was in class, if Tang Yi was too far away, she grew restless and anxious, unable to focus.

After noticing this in the first session, Tang Yi decided to wait outside the classroom during lessons, making sure Ralts could see him through the window.

Waiting for class to end was dull for Tang Yi, but fortunately, entertainment was plentiful in this world—novels, short videos, all sorts of options.

So, with a phone in hand, he could easily pass an entire day.

Tang Yi found some novels online to read.

The genres here were diverse: stories about transmigrating to the pre-anthropomorphic spirit world to become the Overlord of Dragons; tales of humans and spirit queens swapping bodies; or imagined future scenarios like the outbreak of a third Spirit Queen World War.

They turned out to be unexpectedly entertaining. A few times, Tang Yi got so absorbed in his reading that, when class ended, he almost didn’t notice Ralts standing right in front of him.

“Sorry, Ralts. I won’t do that again—I promise it won’t happen next time,” Tang Yi apologized on the way home, feeling genuinely embarrassed.

Ralts didn’t seem angry. Her big, red eyes, half-hidden by her bangs, were full of curiosity and confusion. In a soft voice she said, “I want to read too.”

Ralts could already manage some simple conversations.

Clearly, the training center’s reputation was well-earned, though Ralts’ high intelligence was another key factor—her rapid growth wasn’t just in height and weight.

What? Ralts wanted to read novels too?

Back home, Tang Yi thought it over and decided there was no harm in it.

Since they’d only enrolled in the language class, they were always home before noon, and the afternoons tended to be rather uneventful.

When she’d first hatched, Ralts spent her afternoons napping, but now that she was older, she no longer needed extra rest—her nightly sleep was enough.

“All right, I’ll find some novels for you. It’ll be good practice for your reading and language skills. You can use my computer to read, though.”

Tang Yi’s phone would get WeChat messages from time to time. Most were unimportant, but his mother occasionally sent him a message out of the blue—if he didn’t reply quickly, she’d certainly have more to say that evening.